Cardinal Sin
by Follow-ur-Shadow
Summary: Lisbon is safe, for now... and Jane takes a moment to regain his bearings. - Jisbon


**Cardinal Sin**

**Category**: Angst

**Pairing**: Jisbon

**Summary**: Lisbon is safe, for now... and Jane takes a moment to regain his bearings.

**Warnings**: Contains minor spoilers for season 6, The Desert Rose. A speculative tag if you will :)

**Disclaimer**: Own nudda.

**Authors Notes**: My first Mentalist fic yay! :)

* * *

His breath hitches and falls out in a fast sharp burst, the cycle repeating itself until hot air clogs the back of his throat.

He was right, he _knew_ he was right.

The fact he capitulated so easily just reinforces the danger Lisbon's facing. She was lucky this time. Red John let her go with barely a scrape -physically at least- but the change of motive wasn't out of kindness or even mercy, it was purely to screw with him.

He'll bend for a handful of people... Rigsby, Cho and Grace are at the top of that list but he'll only break for one and Red John knows it. That's why she's still alive. Why he found her marked and drugged beside Partridges body and not bled out beneath a sickly smile painted on the wall.

Because her piece is the penultimate move before checkmate.

And Red John's not done playing.

The knowledge sends his mind hurtling into a spin and he leans forward flattening clammy palms against the metal supply shelf. It creaks taking his weight and he breathes out slowly, trying to regulate the uneven strain pulling across his chest but the dingy storage room feels like it's closing in.

If he can't figure this out, if Red John plays the final hand and he's not at the table... then he may as well wield the blade into Lisbon's heart himself.

The pressure is suffocating but he lets it overwhelm him using the rare lapse of control to fuel his focus. _If_ he looses then this is what it will feel like. No hope of reprieve, no do-overs... just soul crushing anguish. It's one a hell of a motivator and he lets the feeling sink in until he's determined to fight, to avoid living like this at all costs no matter what it takes.

It's a dangerous spiral and he mentally pulls away, forcing his control to snap back into place. Finding clarity in the throws of insanity is a precarious balancing act, one he's had a lot of practice maintaining... and when a faint knock sounds at the door his facade is almost back in place.

His first assumption is Grace.

They're all here in the hospital keeping a loyal vigil outside Lisbon's room but she's the most likely to try and approach him. She's more at ease with showing empathy and not just because she's a women. If he had to make a list of agents less in tune with their emotions Cho and Lisbon would easily tie for first place.

The door creaks open hesitantly, followed by an audible click and a dirty yellow light floods the room.

He blinks against it, instantly missing the darkness that hides a multitude of sins but it's not Grace his gaze falls on, It's Rigsby.

"We drew straws."

The officer shrugs in way of explanation and Jane feels and involuntary smile tug at his lips. No matter how bad things get -unconventional methods of comfort aside- they're a team and they have each others backs. Only now, thanks to his list and Lisbon's inability to trust him, they all have painted red smiley faces targeting their backs.

A spark of anger rushes through his body but it's followed by a larger stab of guilt that turns his stomach. The betrayal he felt and the stupidity of her actions were all bred from camaraderie and he can't begrudge her lifelong instincts... or rather he won't. Not when her mortality has just been fed to him on a silver spoon. She's alive and by default that makes everything else trivial.

"I was just-"

"Stocking up on disposable gloves?" Rigsby shoves his hands deep into his pockets, nodding towards the stack of supplies. He's never been a good liar and to try and pretend the situation isn't awkward as hell would be an insult to both of them. He's not like Grace, he doesn't stare in awe at the mentalist's parlour tricks or even shrug them off like Cho.

If he's honest, the whole thing kinda creeps him out.

Sure he plays along, even tries on a few gimmicks every now and again just to see... but the truth is he's not that sort of a guy. He's impulsive not calculating, straightforward instead of manipulative and he's certainly not the brainiest when it comes to puzzles. _Yes_, he's had to re-sticker every side of a rubix cube to make it work but so what? It's the same result he just gets there without all the crap.

Furthermore he's not ashamed to admit that at times like this he's entirely out of his element. Breaking through fifty solid walls of brick would be easier -if not preferable- to getting inside his friends head at the moment... but he's doing it for Lisbon because after what she's been through he owes it to her to try. "Look, if you need to... talk, or-"

"I appreciate the offer but it's really not necessary," Jane quickly cuts him off, ever so slightly amused by the agents visible relief, "I was just clearing my head... and like you said, we're running low at the precinct." He picks up a box of gloves, throwing it comically across the short distance but the slight tremor in his hand draws away from the light-hearted intent. He tries to smother the involuntary movement, clasping his wrist and letting his hands fall loosely to the front of his trousers.

But the slip doesn't go unnoticed.

The relief in Rigsby's eyes shifts to concern and something else akin to sympathy which twists uneasily in Jane's stomach. It alludes to the higher stakes, to emotions he's not yet ready to analyse much less admit openly but the situation surprises him. Cho would have instinctively stated the obvious, Grace would have offered him some rose coloured optimism for the future but this is Rigsby and when he speaks the words are like a pearl in the rough.

"It's nice... having people to care about, not easy..."

Jane's quiet for a moment, absorbing the meaning with a small but genuine smile. It says everything without saying anything and the silent understanding makes him feel a little lighter.

"Yeah..." he finally agrees, shuffling his feet towards the door and patting his friend on the arm. It's a cue that the conversation is over, that it's not going to get any deeper which comes as a mutual relief to both of them. The last thing he needs right now is to let his emotions act as a distraction.

He needs to get back in the game.

Rooks at the helm.

Cards on the table.

It might be Red John's round to lose but this time he's going all in.


End file.
